Benny lifts one shoulder, brushing me off and returning his attention to the TV.
“Is your real name Benny? Or is that a nickname?”
The crickets have formed a damn choir.
“What is there to do around here?”
Benny crosses his arms and places them on the bar, leaning only a couple of inches toward me. “Why don’t you just tell me what you’re fishing for so I can finish watching the debate on whether or not Tom Brady is a better quarterback than Brett Favre.”
One side of my mouth lifts. “What makes you think I’m fishing?”
He scoffs. “Oh, please. You’ve practically got your bait on the hook and are miserably waiting for a bite.”
“I don’t even know what you just said.” My nose wrinkles.
His look turns deadpan. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Raven.”
Our gazes fix intently on each other, assessing.
I’m about ready to cave when the front door flies open and bounces off the wall with a bang. The sound sends a jolt to my entire being. I have to physically stop myself from diving onto the floor. Benny just sat up straighter, and his hand disappeared under the bartop like he was grabbing something.
A whistle of appreciation comes from the doorway as the sunshine is cut off and we are once again swathed in a dusk-like glow. Two men are strolling toward me. The same two men I met at Mystic Beans.
The one with the world tattoo on his throat speaks up first. “There you are, sweetheart. I was starting to think you were avoiding us.” His teasing tone is in juxtaposition with hispowerful walk. A man like this doesn’t doubt himself. He makes hard choices and sticks with them.
Finally. An asshole I can deal with.
“To avoid you, I’d have to care where you are first.” I rest a hand on my hip and pop the other out.
His hands come together and cover the left side of his chest. “Straight through the heart. Give a man a break.”
“What do you want, Atlas?” Benny snaps.
The other man stands slightly behind Atlas. He’s just as big and scary-looking as Atlas, but he lacks the jocular air that Atlas throws out like free candy.
Atlas lifts his hand, and hot damn, even his fingers are tattooed. I finally notice the duffle bag. “Delivery. Bas and I wanted to bring it personally.”
My eyes bounce from the bag to Benny’s hidden hand to the bulges at the other men’s hips and back to the bag.
Shit.
“You just wanted an excuse to harass Kat,” Benny accuses.
“What we do could hardly be categorized as harassment.”
“I’m sure Kat would beg to differ,” Benny shoots back.
Atlas’s smile turns fierce. “Kat will beg, alright.”
“Ugh! My ears!” I interrupt and make a gagging sound, easily breaking the tension.
Atlas crosses his arms. “I didn’t take you for a prude, sweetheart.”
Raising a brow, I respond, “Hardly. But the talk of sex in relation to you? Ew. No.”
“Aw, come on. We could have some fun together.”
I open my mouth to refute his claim, but a shout cuts me off. “The fuck you will!” Heavy footsteps pound across the bar. A peek over my shoulder shows me Griffin and Knox with thunderous looks on their faces and aiming them right at Atlas and Bas.
